As he spoke he turned towards the door, and Mark Penelly made a clutch at the nearest chair.
Chapter Three.
Harry Paul’s Present.
Zekle Wynn already had his hand upon the door when, mastering the strange feeling of dread that had seized him, Mark Penelly caught him by the arm and held him tightly:
“Look here, Zekle,” he said hoarsely; “that was all a bit of fun—a joke; but I don’t want anyone to know. I’ll give you fifteen pounds if you’ll hold your tongue.”
“No,” said Zekle, stoutly; “it’s my duty to tell, and I’m agoing to tell.”
“Twenty pounds,” cried Penelly.
“No, I said afore that I wouldn’t do it for twenty pounds,” said Zekle, with a very virtuous shake of the head; and as he made an effort to get away, Penelly, who felt desperate, offered him twenty-five pounds.